Pour Me Out
by jamespotterdidntstrut
Summary: Written for my Creative Writing class under the premise of "Devastating Affect"


Pour Me Out

War is a dangerous thing. It is not the sum of the stories you are told as a child, it is not a romantic ideal like the photos of returning soldiers may suggest, it is not a movie or a book or a song. War is deep and dangerous. It is there even when you can't see it, and most especially present in your own mind whether you are a part of it personally or not.

Mary hadn't wanted to be a part of it, not one bit. She may have regretted her decision every now and again to refuse to fight, but in the long run she knew that she had made the right decision for herself. Benjy, on the other hand, knew from the moment the idea was planted into his head that there was no other option for him. He would protect those that this war wanted to see hurt. He would be brave and he would fight, no questions asked. And even though Mary didn't necessarily approve of his daring actions, she would always admit that her want for him to stay out of the fighting was purely selfish. She couldn't stand to lose him, not like that. He was too good of a person.

Well into June, a hot heat boiling all around the country and an even more blistering, dangerous movement in the development of the war, Mary scuttled around the kitchen of the flat she shared on occasion with Benjy. He had his own place, of course, but after long nights of fighting for the cause, he would always find himself showing up on her doorstep where she would make him a hot cup of tea (admittedly, the only thing she _could_ make) and share her bed.

She knew his schedule better than she knew her own name, and could always tell when he was late. It wasn't a rare occurrence that he would show up nearly an hour later than his shift let out, but she still couldn't help but nearly sicken herself with each passing minute that he could be dead. That night was no different. As the clock ticked to five past eleven, she lowered herself into the armchair in her living room and tried to busy herself with a magazine, flipping through the pages too quickly to properly read any of the articles. She was fooling no one.

At a quarter past, she set the magazine down and started towards the kitchen where she put the tea on. Her normal custom was to wait until his arrival, upon which they would talk about the goings on of his most recent battle or slow night on watch until the water boiled and they drank their tea in silence, simply appreciating the fact that the other was still alive even if they never stated such.

Three times that night her hand shook too suddenly and her favorite tea cup crashed to the floor, shattering all over the tile until she could whip out her wand and clean it up. Three times she thought she heard the distinct pop that signified Benjy's arrival only to be terribly disappointed at his lack of entrance.

By midnight, she'd already downed two cups of tea and had another set to boil. Her hands shook from anxiety and the caffeine, although she would only admit to the latter if asked. And by one, the caffeine had run its course and she was passed out at the kitchen table, her blonde hair sprawled out over her arm and her body curled in on itself.

There was a sound outside of her door and it awoke Mary immediately, despite her normal habit for being quite the sound sleeper. She jumped up from the table and rushed to the door, ignoring the whine from the long-since boiling tea on the stove. She'd shut it off later, she resolved, once Benjy was safe inside. Grasping at the door knob and taking several tries to open it with her shaking hands before it finally clicked, she smiled widely at the figure on the doorstep until she realized who he was. Or rather, who he was not.

"Re-Remus?" She swallowed hard, the name sticking fast to her tongue as a snitch-balled sized lump formed in her throat. "I…I don't…" She peered around his shoulder, craning her neck to see who stood behind him. It wasn't often, but occasionally Benjy would bring others from his shift back to her place, especially if it had been a slow night. She didn't want to cry or look like a terrible fool for just assuming the worst when really he'd only brought a few of their mates back for a drink. Of course that would be what he'd done, of course it would. Benjy's birthday was coming up soon and he'd probably wanted to celebrate on a night when he knew everyone would be able to make it. Of course. That had to be it. But if it were a party, why did Remus look so upset?

"Mary," he said, taking a step closer to her as she stepped back to allow him entrance. No one followed him, no one was behind him, she made perfectly sure of that before she allowed herself to look back at Remus' frowning face.

She shook her head fast, blonde curls bouncing frantically around her face as her lips trembled and her vision blurred. "No." She said forcefully, her voice, much like her hands, shaking. "Where is he?" Her voice was demanding and harsh, and she stared straight at him with both desperation and anger rising in her throat like bile.

He didn't answer right away, taking another step towards her and reaching out a comforting hand to lay on her shoulder which she immediately hit away with more force than she intended.

"I said _where is he_," she was practically growling now, tears streaming down her cheeks in a hot, steady flow that she didn't even feel. She didn't feel anything.

Remus shuffled his feet, obviously upset and uncomfortable. "Mary, something went wrong. We…we were told to go west of the Ministry, just down a little ways. They said it was safe, no one was there."

He continued to explain, but the blood was pounding in her ears far too fiercely for her to hear a word of it, and even if it hadn't been, her broken sobs would have effectively silenced him. Few choice words slipped through, "brave, blown up, gone, help, dead" but they only fueled her wailing and, sensing this, Remus stopped his story, wrapping his arms around her heaving shoulders instead.

She did not shrink away this time, but she didn't hug him back either. She was frozen and breaking all over with visions of herself and Benjy laying in bed just the other night and laughing at the most absurd of things. Or of the first time he'd asked her on a date, the pink embarrassment that had risen to his cheeks when she'd told him off for not asking sooner. That time she'd forgotten her jacket at Marlene's place and Benjy had wrapped his own around her, hugging her tight to his chest as they walked through the snow together. And it was gone. All gone. She'd never see the lopsided grin fall across his lips or feel his hands holding her hips. She'd never laugh at something silly he said and worse yet, she'd never hear his laugh again.

The both of them fell to the floor and she curled against Remus' chest, sobbing harder than she thought possible. She wanted to choke out all of the terrible feelings and images from her body, she wanted to cry harder until she snapped in half from the pain of it all. _Dead. Benjy was dead. _And here she was, in her stupid flat with her stupid life and her stupid, childish fear of joining the fight. She could have stopped it. If she'd only been brave enough to fight…

She hadn't realized it, but she must have sobbed the last part of her thoughts out, because Remus was murmuring something against her hair about how she couldn't have done anything. She couldn't have stopped it.

But she didn't believe him. She would never believe him. She was still here, alive, and Benjy was gone. _Blown to bits. _

The screaming of the tea pot on the stove mixed with her own, and together they burned on in scalding pain, waiting for someone to come home and fix them that never could.


End file.
